


Prisoner

by rinthegreat



Series: Everything Or Nothing At All [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Soft Lancelot, because there isn't a lot out there and i've heard your complaints, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 05:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12149448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: Lance gets captured by Lotor





	Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> unbetaed, all errors are my own. 
> 
> i hope you guys like it! :)

“You are…far more beautiful than I imagined.”

The movements around them cease, Lance frozen where he is on the ground. His helmet had gone flying off his head mid battle, clipping his skull so hard his ears rang. When the world had rearranged itself around him, his Bayard was gone, and he was collapsed on the ground at Lotor’s feet. Scratch that, he’s still collapsed here.

His head really hurts.

Which is the only way to explain how he reacts. “What?”

Lotor, to Lance’s surprise, reaches down, offering his hand. Something tells him this must all be a dream, but Lotor’s hand is warm when he takes it, and he lifts Lance with enough force to rattle his brain against his skull, the pain causing Lance to wince. So not a dream then.

“You are the blue paladin?” Lotor asks, as if that’s a question that even needs to be answered.

Lance looks around, confused. Allura and the largest of Lotor’s generals are in a tug of war over Allura’s whip Bayard, Keith and the pretty one are wrestling, and Pidge is being held at gunpoint by the one with short hair. He lost track of Hunk a while back – the yellow lion’s been swooping around outside though, so he thinks Hunk might be providing backup out there. “Uh…yes? Technically I’m flying the red lion these days…” This is probably the strangest situation he’s ever been in.

“I think blue suits you better. It brings out your eyes.” Lotor’s eyes are wide as he says that, almost as if he hadn’t intended to.

“Uh…” Lance stumbles over his words. Lotor still hasn’t released his hand. “Your hair is really pretty. Looks softer than Allura’s.” Shit, what the hell? Why did he say that?

Lotor looks around at the deadlock surrounding them before spinning Lance, bringing his back to Lotor’s chest. Something cold touches his throat, the tip of a knife held to him there. “Give up, paladins,” he announces. “Or your friend dies.”

Lance’s head _really_ hurts. He drops it back, resting it on Lotor’s shoulder instead. It still hurts, but at least he doesn’t have to look at anything moving. Watching movement is messing with his vision.

“What are you doing to him?” Keith demands, voice strained as if he’s being choked.

“I’m taking him with me.”

Wait, what?

“What?” Lance’s mental question is echoed by his teammates.

“Four paladins can’t form Voltron,” Lotor tells them. “He can either be dead or captured. Your choice.”

Lance’s head pounds too hard to catch the response, if there’s any, and the next thing he knows, he’s being pulled back. He closes his eyes against the nausea as the ceiling moves over him. He’s rustled away, and the distinct sound of a crypod opening meets his ears. He chokes back on his nausea as the cold overtakes him, and he loses consciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

He stumbles out of the crypod, confused and disoriented. Especially when he crashes against a hard body that doesn’t belong to Hunk or Shiro. Looking up, he immediately backs up, slamming into the cryopod. That’s a Galra. One of Lotor’s generals, to be specific.

“What the quiznak?” He asks, heart pounding against his chest, as he looks around. There are…one, two, three other Galra around him. The fact that they’re all beautiful women doesn’t even make it better, because he recognizes them all as Lotor’s generals. And oh…shit. The memories of their last battle rear their ugly heads, and Lance whips around his no-longer-in-pain head.

“Fetch Lotor,” the one with short hair says. The silent one nods, disappearing. “You,” she points at Lance, “sit down.”

The generals part, revealing a seat for him. Confused and mildly scared, Lance obeys them, walking forward. Okay, so he’s Lotor’s prisoner now. That’s great. There’s definitely no way he’s getting out of this. Lotor had disappeared for months; they hadn’t seen hide or hair from him the entire time. So yeah, he’s definitely Lotor’s prisoner forever.

“Paladin.” Lotor’s voice jerks Lance from his near panic attack. He glances around and sees that they’re alone in the room now. How had Lance missed that? “What’s your name?”

He doesn’t have a whole lot to lose, so Lance tells him. “Lance.”

“Lance.” Lotor breathes his name like a prayer, reverent to a fault. He’s never heard anyone say his name like that. Certainly not anyone as pretty as Lotor.

The prince leans in, reaching forward. Automatically, Lance shrinks back. Lotor drops his hand. “Your hair looks very soft.” He cocks his head. “As does your skin.”

Lance flushes. “Thanks?” He settles on eventually.

“Why?”

Lance’s eyes jerk up to meet the prince’s. “Why what?”

“Why would you thank someone for saying the truth?”

Really, Lance shouldn’t find that as charming as he does. He’s Lotor’s prisoner, not his guest. He shouldn’t be thinking of flirting back with him, no matter how silken his hair looks. No matter how unusual it is for someone to flirt back with him, especially someone as beautiful as Lotor.

But he has no idea when the last time he ate was, and it’s unlikely he’ll make it out of this alive. So instead he opens his mouth. “You can touch my hair if you like.”

A slow smile curls over Lotor’s face, and the next thing Lance knows, slender fingers are carding through his short hair. “It _is_ soft,” Lotor remarks, fingers dropping to the sensitive skin behind Lance’s ear. He shudders as the prince runs his finger down his jawbone then across his cheek, ending pressed to his lips. “Are all humans like you?”

“Not really.” The pad of Lotor’s finger slips inside, and Lance’s tongue brushes against it. This is probably too far.

A flush rises high in Lotor’s cheeks, turning his face a deep purple as he quickly removes his finger. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Lance,” Lotor murmurs. He’s leaning in so close, his breath ghosts over Lance’s face.

And then he’s gone, leaving Lance shivering alone on the chair.

 

* * *

 

Being imprisoned by Lotor is…strange, to say the least. Lance is given his own room and a fresh set of clothes, and aside from that he’s given almost free reign of the entire ship. At least one of Lotor’s generals tails him at all times though, so he never gets the chance to feel like he’s _not_ a prisoner, but at least they don’t keep him locked up.

Narti, the quiet one – he learns all their names pretty fast – is his favorite, mostly because when she tails him, he still feels mostly alone. Acxa always shoots him these odd looks, like she hates that he’s even here. Zethrid doesn’t bother veiling her death threats. And Ezor, though beautiful beyond belief, can’t manage to hide her irritation at having to watch “Lotor’s little pet.” Honestly, he’d thought he’d get along with Ezor the most, seeing as she’s the most carefree of the bunch, but she avoids being around him unless directly ordered by Lotor or Acxa.

And when they aren’t watching him, that’s because Lotor’s with him again. Really, Lance prefers being around Lotor the most, aside from the confusing whirl of emotions he leaves in Lance’s stomach every time they’re in the same room. It’s strange, that this is the prince they’ve been trying to defeat. The Lotor Lance remembers them chasing is cold, calculating, almost cruel. But this Lotor is soft, always asking permission before touching Lance with a reverent respect that never goes too far.

He can never keep himself quiet around Lotor, either. “I like spending time with you,” he confesses when Lotor asks if he’s comfortable. As if his comfort is important, even though he’s a prisoner.

“Then why don’t you come to the bridge?” Lotor asks, head tilting the same way it does whenever Lance tells him something particularly odd – or at least odd to Galra – about humans.

“I can do that?”

“Of course.”

The next day, he leads Narti to the bridge.

Ezor catches sight of them first, rolling her eyes and tossing her…it isn’t hair no matter how much it looks like it over her shoulder. “Great. Now we all get to babysit the human.”

“Now, Ezor, be polite,” Lotor orders with a small smile. He’s seated in the central chair, almost a throne. Lance can’t help the returning smile that spreads over his own features. He’s falling too hard, too fast for someone who’s supposed to be his enemy.

Acxa purses her lips but doesn’t question it, while Zethrid ignores his appearance entirely. Lance takes a seat on the stairs, glad to have some way of spending his day that isn’t wandering the castle, trying to guess what stars they’re near. He can’t feel Blue or Red at all, but he hasn’t been able to since Lotor took him.

Like this, Lance sees the other side of Lotor, the side of him who’s a leader, Emperor Pro Tem of the Galra Empire. And wow, that throws Lance for a loop. He’s the personal prisoner of Zarkon’s replacement, his son. Ruler of most of the universe. That…is strange.

Lotor’s smart, as smart as Pidge but in a different way. He leans against his chair-throne, resting his cheek on his fist, as if bored. Everything he does that day is smaller scale than when they’d gone head to head, nothing that’ll make Voltron suspicious. Clever.

“Why didn’t you take the lions instead of me?” Lance asks after Lotor sends another one of Zarkon’s former generals out for resources.

For the first time since he’d walked in, Lance has Lotor’s attention on him. The prince’s eyes rake up and down his form as he sits, heating Lance’s entire body. At first, Lance thinks he won’t answer, but then he does. “I have no interest in Voltron. I wanted them out of the picture. This was the easiest way.”

“Why don’t you kill me then?”

Lotor’s eyes narrow, gaze calculating. Lance swallows, wanting to take back his words. “Acxa, you have the bridge,” he announces, not looking away from Lance.

“Affirmative,” Acxa replies as Lotor stands fluidly.

Lance gets up as Lotor sweeps past him, and the two of them leave the bridge. Lotor leads them down the halls wordlessly, stopping in front of one of the few doors Lance hasn’t entered. He opens it, gesturing Lance inside, and he steps in, aware that this is the prince’s private quarters. His bedroom.

“Uh…Prince…” Lance starts. He never knows how to address Lotor. Has managed to talk his way around it until now.

“Lotor, please.”

“Lotor.”

The prince turns at that, gesturing at the bed. “Please sit.” Lance does, waiting. “Do you still think I want to kill you?” Lotor asks softly.

Honestly? Lance doesn’t know. He can’t get a read on Lotor past his own conflicting emotions. “I…don’t know,” he admits.

Lotor sits next to him, raising his hand hesitantly to Lance’s face. When Lance doesn’t say anything, Lotor smooths his fingers over Lance’s cheek, tucking a few short hairs behind his ear. “I assure you, I do not want to kill you.”

“Okay,” Lance breathes. He’s putty in Lotor’s hands, as he always is.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” Lotor’s other hand cups Lance’s cheek, cradling his face between them. “May I kiss you?”

They’ve been dancing around each other for a while, doing nothing more than touching each other’s hair or faces. This isn’t going to help Lance’s emotions calm down. Isn’t going to help him sift through them to determine what’s real and what’s Stockholm syndrome.

“Yes.”

Lotor cradles Lance’s face in his hand as he leans forward, lips brushing tentatively against his own. It’s soft, gentle, and when Lotor backs away, Lance surges forward, capturing them again. His fingers tangle in Lotor’s hair as they kiss once, twice, ten times. He eases Lotor back, tossing his leg over the prince’s torso so he’s straddling him. Better angle attained, Lance deepens the kiss, grasping Lotor’s hair in his fist.

He opens his mouth, tongue darting out to brush along the seam of Lotor’s lips, and the world flips. Lance opens his eyes to find himself facing up, a red-faced, panting Lotor looking down at him from above. “Do not tempt me, Lance,” Lotor murmurs, voice a sin.

Lotor reaches for him again but clenches his hand into a fist at the last second, pulling it back to his chest. He sits up, backing away from Lance, giving him space. For a moment, Lance lies there, staring at the ceiling of Lotor’s room, wondering what the hell his life has become. But then he sits up, alongside the prince.

Some of Lotor’s hair is a mess, tangled where Lance had gripped it. Gently, Lance smooths the strands, guiding them back over the prince’s shoulder. “Do you like it here?” Lotor asks, voice serious.

“I’m a prisoner,” Lance confesses. “But I –“ _like you_ is how he wants to end that. The thing is, he’s not really sure if that’s just because he’s captured and Lotor’s been…different than expected.

Lotor nods, his hair dropping back over his shoulder, veiling his face. “Of course.”

“Lotor.”

“Please. Leave.”

It’s the first request Lotor’s made of him since making Lance prisoner, so he doesn’t question it. Instead he gets up and walks out, straightening his clothes before he walks out the door. Unsurprisingly, Narti is there, waiting for him with her cat on her shoulder. Without a word, the two of them head to Lance’s designated room. He immediately lies down, turning away from where she stands guard.

But he doesn’t sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

“What is this?” Lance asks, terrified.

He’s standing on an icy planet, clothed in his paladin armor again with a Galran helmet made to fit. Lotor and Narti are there with him, both sporting fuzzy cloaks, while the other generals are still in the ship. Lotor had said he wouldn’t kill Lance, but now…Lance isn’t sure. He’s never been sure, but this feels even worse. He hadn’t seen Lotor since their make out in his room a few days ago, and now he’s being left on Delta Vega.

“Lotor, what are you doing?” He asks when no one answers. “Are you…leaving me here to die?”

At least that makes Lotor look up and meet his eyes. They’re all wearing helmets, but Lotor’s doesn’t have the tint on it, revealing something like sorrow in his gaze. “Of course not.”

“Then why are you leaving me here?”

Two short steps is all it takes for Lotor to reach him. With a flick, the cloak is off Lotor and instead rests around Lance’s shoulders. The prince leans forward until their helmets are pressed together. If Lance weren’t terrified of dying immediately upon removing his helmet, he’d take it off and kiss Lotor, if just to taste him one last time. “The most beautiful winged creatures fly free,” Lotor whispers, as if that’s explanation enough.

In a way, it is.

“This is a distress beacon,” Lotor tells him, pressing a ball into his hand. “Activate it by pressing this button here.” He guides Lance’s thumb to a certain area of the ball. “And this is a blaster. Use it if anything comes for you that isn’t your friends.” A blaster is pressed into Lance’s other hand. Lotor’s fingers curl around Lance’s one last time.

Lance can barely breathe when Lotor steps back, taking his warmth with him. “How do I know anyone can find me?”

“Voltron is nearby. Your signal will be found.” Lotor nods to Narti. “I will find you again, Lance,” he promises before turning to leave along with his general.

Lance stands there, numb, as they get in the shuttle and take off, leaving him alone. The silence is deafening, and he loses track of time until he hears a distant roar. The sound reminds him that he’s on a foreign planet with a limited supply of oxygen. Lance presses the button, putting the distress signal in a pocket of his cloak, before pulling it tighter around him. The planet is freezing, and he needs to find a place to hide from the elements until the team can reach him.

 

* * *

 

 

Allura is the one to find him, flying down in the blue lion. Lance would be lying if he said the sight of Blue didn’t bring tears to his eyes. He steps out of the shallow cave he’d been sitting in, waving them down.

A crackle sounds in his ears, the first sound outside the distant roars Lance has heard in hours. “Lance? Is that you?” It’s Keith’s voice that echoes in his helmet.

“Yeah. It’s me.”

Both Keith and Shiro are in the blue lion along with Allura. They fly him back up to the castle, and Lance is immediately engulfed in a huge Hunk-hug once he steps out. “Lance! Buddy! I thought I’d lost you.”

“I missed you too, Hunk,” Lance exhales against Hunk’s neck, savoring the warmth of his friend after hours on that freezing ice planet. He’s glad Lotor at least made sure Voltron was nearby.

“How’d you escape?” Pidge asks once they have him in the med bay, and Coran’s checking him for injuries. It’s not necessary; Lance knows he doesn’t have any.

He feels a little guilty lying, but he can’t tell his team the whole truth either. “He let me go,” he admits, hoping that’s the end of it.

“Why?” Keith asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Don’t know.” It’s not exactly a lie. Lance doesn’t know, not for sure. He has some suspicions, but it’s not worth reading into it now. Not when no good can really come from the fact that he _knows_ he has feelings for Lotor.

“All that matters is that you’re back,” Coran tells him. “Get some sleep. I’ll send Hunk to fetch you for dinner.”

Nothing in Lance’s room has changed since he left, to his relief. Before he can stop himself, he tosses Lotor’s cloak over his bed, keeping it as a blanket. It smells like him, just a little, and he burrows into it when he lies down. If he pulls it tight over his shoulders and pretends the ceiling he’s looking at is the one over Lotor’s bed, then no one else needs to know.

**Author's Note:**

> yes, this is a little bit beauty and the beast-esque. it's also probably out of character for lotor. i just...really wanted to write some soft canon lancelot that wasn't there to fuel klangst or shangst. after some of the more...dangerous nsfw week lotor fics i wrote, i wanted to write him being a little more innocent and lovestruck. 
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](https://rinthegreat.tumblr.com/)  
> [track my writing updates and drabbles](https://rinthegreat.tumblr.com/tagged/cat-writes-fanfiction)


End file.
